TURNING POINT
by Spirit Burner AKA Chick Feed
Summary: Before he became a Hunter, before he met the two boys destined to become like sons to him, there was another Bobby. Then along came his reason to join the Hunt, but first it took a stranger to pick Bobby up, to clean him down, and to become his friend. This is Bobby's story...
1. Chapter 1

**TURNING POINT**

**Prologue**

Robert Singer Esquire, aka the luckiest man on the planet; that's how he felt about his life. He was married to and loved by a beautiful woman who, as a bonus, baked the most perfect pies. He was his own boss, having his own salvage and vehicle repair business. He was always at his happiest tinkering around under the hood of a vehicle, so being able to earn from it added up to complete job satisfaction,

He and his wife, Karen, had a house on site so even his journey into work was easy. The nearest town was a place called Sioux Falls, where the biggest dramas came from such things as who would take first prize in the cake baking competition at the annual town fair. His wife was popular with the townsfolk and so, by association, was he.

Yup. As far as Robert "Bobby" Singer was concerned, it simply didn't get much better than this.

Of course at this point in his life there remained some important facts that Bobby, as yet, remained blissfully unaware of. The greatest of these being that Fate and the Gods liked to piss on folk like him just for the sheer hell of it.

When Fate looked around and set it's sights on Bobby Singer, well…..let's just say that Fate's bladder must've been exceptionally full !

**xxxxxxxxXXXxxxxxxxx**

**1.**

Bobby's sleep was disturbed by a persistent tickling sensation to the back of his neck. He desperately tried to ignore it and to sink back into the dream he had been enjoying; wherein Mrs Singer was bending to take a pie out of the oven. In his dream she was wearing a sweet, and very small, pink gingham apron and nothing else at all. Bobby had been thoroughly enjoying the view. The annoying little sensation persisted. Keeping his eyes closed Bobby scratched at the area, lips curling into a smile when the feeling stopped. He sighed happily and snuggled in to try to recapture his dream. Only to have that irritating tickle start up again. Bobby gave up his hopes of returning to sleep and rolled onto his back, allowing himself the luxury of a slow come round. Until that damn sensation returned, this time on the end of his nose. In exasperation Bobby opened his eyes.

Laid alongside him and propping herself up on one elbow whilst smiling down at him was Karen. She brushed the feather she had been tormenting her husband with over his lips.

"Good morning Mr Singer."

Bobby returned her smile,

"And the same to you Mrs Singer."

Karen leant forward to kiss him. Bobby grabbed hold of her and pulled her down until she was laid, laughing, on top of him.

"Why Mr Singer, I do declare!"

Bobby gripped her tighter with one arm, his other hand travelling down to rest on her backside,

"You're mine now you feather wielding strumpet. There's no escape wench!"

XXX

Sat at the kitchen table, coffee in hand, Bobby watched as Karen served up breakfast,

"Karen…I've been meaning to ask…How d'yer feel about wearing pink gingham?"

"Pink ging….? What on earth are you talking about Bobby Singer?"

Bobby smiled broadly and shrugged,

"Oh, nothin'. Just think it'd suit you is all."

Karen placed Bobby's breakfast in front of him then, removing his baseball cap, she kissed him on the top of his head,

"The stuff that goes on in your head! You're a wonderful and strange man Bobby, you really are."

That was the last time they ate breakfast together and, as Bobby walked out to the yard whistling, he had no clue that it was the last time he would hear her call after him, "I love you Bobby Singer."

XXX

Bobby had been working on the engine of a green Dodge Colt for an hour when he heard a vehicle pull into the yard. Glancing out from under the hood of the Dodge, he watched as a dusty and battered pick up truck came to a standstill. Wiping his hands on a rag, Bobby strolled over to the truck. A head stuck itself out of the wound down window on the driver's side.

"You Singer?"

Bobby nodded his head once,

"S'right. Bobby Singer. How can I help?"

The driver climbed out of the vehicle. He was slightly taller than Bobby, black and well built in an athletic sort of way rather than carrying too much bulging muscle. He had an easy going smile but Bobby also got the impression that this guy could handle himself in a tight corner. Bobby guessed him to be a couple or so years older than himself. The man stretched his hand out to Bobby,

"Name's Rufus. Rufus Turner. I've got a problem with the truck an' I don't got a lotta time spare. Think you can have a look see?"

XXX

Rufus sat on an upturned packing crate watching Bobby work.

"Noticed the house up there. You live here on site?"

"Uh huh."

"Live here alone?"

Bobby paused slightly before answering and, although not sure why, he heard himself saying "Yup."

Rufus nodded and was quiet, then,

"So I'm guessin' you don't get many strangers droppin' in here?"

Bobby glanced over his shoulder at the man.

"Nope. Not so many."

Rufus met his gaze,

"How about in the past couple o' days?"

Bobby straightened up and gave Rufus his full attention.

"Nope. Take it you're looking for someone?"

"Yeah. Kinda."

"Friend of yours?"

Rufus gave a short laugh,

"Not exactly."

Bobby waited, giving the man the opportunity to explain. Instead, Rufus gave Bobby a considering look,

"You noticed anythin' ….. unusual of late around here?"

Bobby's eyes narrowed.

"Such as?"

The man shrugged.

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe some electrical problems? Lights flickering on an' off for no good reason?"

"You working for the electric company? Look, no offence friend, but what's with all the questions?"

Before Rufus could answer, they both heard Karen call Bobby's name. Rufus looked at Bobby, one eyebrow raised, an amused expression on his face. Bobby returned his look, his face blank. Karen appeared at the workshop entrance,

"Bobby? Oh… I'm sorry. I didn't realise we had a customer."

Rufus stood up, holding his hand out to Karen,

"Mrs Singer I presume? Name's Rufus."

Bobby watched intently as Rufus and his wife shook hands, looking for any sign that the man was anything other than a friendly guy in need of a quick repair job. Karen smiled at the man.

"Would you like a coffee Mr…er…Rufus? I just came to ask Bobby if he wanted one."

Rufus dipped his head,

"Thank you Mrs Singer. That'd be great."

"Please, call me Karen. Would you like to come up to the house?"

Before Rufus was able to respond, Bobby jumped in,

"_No."_

Karen and Rufus both turned to him. Karen was frowning slightly. Bobby realised his tone had possibly come across as a little too sharp.

"Sorry Hon, it's just that I, er…I'm nearly finished here and I need to talk Mr Turner through what I've done and work out a price for him."

Karen gave Rufus an apologetic smile.

"Ok then. I'll bring your drinks out here."

The men watched as Karen strolled away, humming to herself. Rufus sat himself back down and eyed Bobby, his head cocked to one side.

"Why'd you tell me you lived here alone?"

"Why'd you wanna' know?"

Rufus acknowledged Bobby's reply,

"Touche."

Bobby straightened himself to his full height,

"Don't take offence Mr Turner…."

"Rufus."

"Mr Turner…But you still haven't told me why you're asking so many questions. Seems to me you've swung by this way for a reason. I don't wanna' pry into your business so I'm gonna finish up here, you're gonna drink your coffee, an' then we'll be saying goodbye. That alright with you?"

Rufus looked at Bobby thoughtfully,

"Ok man. No problem."

XXX

Rufus paused as he began to climb into his truck and instead, turned to look back at Bobby, his expression serious.

"Look man. I didn't mean to freak you out. You seem like a real decent guy an' I'm real grateful for what you've done. I figure you do deserve some kinda explanation for the questions. When you said it seemed I was in these parts for a reason? You were right. Thing is, I'm hunting someone an' I know for certain he's heading out this way."

"So, you're a bounty hunter?"

Rufus gave a half smile.

"Yeah. Somethin' like that. Anyway, this guy, he's a mean one Bobby. Inhuman. He knows I'm on his trail an' he'll be looking for somewhere to hole up. An out of town place like this would suit him nicely. You need to be ready, just in case. Rufus paused, considering just how he was going to warn this guy without sounding as nutty as a 5 lb bag of peanuts.

"I'm gonna give you some advice an' it's gonna sound crazy but I'm deadly serious man. Keep a knife on you, day an' night. Keep it to hand, don't leave it layin' around. And Bobby, you gotta make absolutely certain it's made of silver."

"Silver?"

"Yeah. Trust me Bobby, this guy…well, best I can tell you is he's not like you an' me. He's…..different. There's only certain things'll protect you and Karen against him. Might make him think twice about harmin' both of you. An' Bobby? I'm not kiddin' about this. Understand?"

Bobby looked into Rufus' eyes trying to gauge whether the man was drugged up or simply crazy. Trouble was, all Bobby's instincts told him to trust the guy and that the man wasn't simply feeding him bullshit. Crazy or not, there was something in the guy that convinced Bobby to heed his words. Bobby found himself beginning to feel nervous. Rufus pulled a business card from his pocket and held it out.

"Take this. If you ever need to, you can generally get me on one of those numbers, or leave me a message. I mean it man, call me, any time. Thanks for your help with the truck and tell Karen thanks for the coffee. Who knows? We might bump into each other again sometime when I'm not so, um, busy."

Bobby watched as the truck drove away from the yard. He shook his head, looking at the card Rufus had given him, before pocketing it safely,

"Guess it takes all sorts."

XXX

Deep in thought Bobby made his way back to the workshop, never noticing the scrawny kid laying on the floor under one of the junk cars. The kid had also been watching as the truck pulled away. The youth smiled, and for an instant his eyes changed, turning to an emotionless flat black, reminiscent of a shark.

**xxxxxxxxXXXxxxxxxxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

Karen squatted down on her haunches rummaging around in an under sink cupboard, pulling out polish, dusters and bleach. She didn't hear the stranger quietly walk up behind her, watching. Satisfied she had what she needed for now Karen stood up and turned around.

She felt her stomach lurch and her breath caught in her throat before she had chance to make any sound at the shock of finding a teenage boy standing in front of her. There was a thud as the bottle of bleach hit the floor, closely followed by the tin of furniture polish which rolled away under the kitchen table.

Karen's knees had turned to rubber. She automatically went to reach behind herself with one hand in order to grasp the edge of the sink and steady herself. It was then that she discovered she couldn't move. She became aware of a thrumming, tingling sensation throughout her body. She had no doubt that the unnatural power coursing through her and keeping her motionless was somehow coming from this boy who stood staring at her.

Karen felt the quickening thud of her own heart pounding in fear. Tears began to form in her eyes. The boy, _"no…..creature," _curled his lips in a predatory smile.

Karen began to scream. Inside she screamed loud enough to waken the very angels in Heaven, but no sound ever left her lips. The boy's eye's changed from dull grey to black, the only physical sign of the pure evil within him.

The horrifying realisation dawned on Karen that her life, her time with Bobby, everything she treasured, was drawing to an end because of this…."_thing." _The monster opened it's mouth, spewing out a stream of ink black smoke and Karen was helpless as she waited to die.

Darkness engulfed her and she felt herself begin to shrink and shrivel up inside her own body. Her essence being forced into some internal recess whilst something else moved in and completely took over her physical shell.

XXX

From that dark corner deep within herself, Karen could only watch helplessly as her hands grasped the head of the now unconscious boy laid on the floor. She heard the sharp _crack_ as her own hands ended the boy's life. Some unspeakable entity had guided her hands to the boy's neck and head. Karen felt as if she herself had murdered the boy. The delicate flickering spark that was still Karen sobbed as she thought of Bobby and the danger he was be in from this thing squatting within her.

Karen struggled and protested as best she could, trying to take back some of the control, however small a portion. Her hopeless mental fight to regain dominance over herself became ever more frantic. She tried begging and pleading but to no avail. She desperately wanted to stop Bobby coming back to the house, to warn him, but she had no idea how to. She heard the…._"Demon!" _chuckle, amused by her terror.

"Don't you worry in there Mrs Singer. Promise I won't kill him straight away. I'll let you sweat it out for a while. You'll be watching when I do it. You'll see the light go out in his eyes and there's nothing you can do to stop me. It's going to be fun. Do you think I should let him fuck me first before I rip his heart out?"

XXX

Later that afternoon Bobby called it a day and went back to the house. It didn't take him long to sense something was wrong with Karen. Her conversation didn't flow as naturally as it normally did. Bobby felt like he was having to work hard just to get one or two word answers. When Karen smiled, it didn't quite reach her eyes and, the constant little loving touches he was so familiar with whenever he was within reach simply didn't happen. Sure, he asked if she was ok, whether anything was wrong, whether she was mad at him for something? Karen just kept saying "No."

Bobby decided not to mention Rufus' warning to Karen, not in the mood she was in. He simply followed Rufus' advice and found a long silver paper knife which he tucked into the back of his pants.

Later when Bobby went upstairs for a shower, he couldn't find a clean towel. Given how stilted things seemed with Karen he decided not to call her, but went to the towel cupboard himself.

His heart skipped a beat when he opened the cupboard door and the stiffening body of a boy no more than 17 toppled out, wide open eyes staring blankly up towards Bobby. Fighting down his instinctive yell of horror, Bobby did the only thing he could think of. He rang the numbers that Rufus had given him.

Rufus drove at breakneck speed back to the salvage yard and stormed into the house, the place was quiet….too quiet. Clutching a silver short sword in one hand and a silver flask of Holy Water in the other Rufus stood, holding his breath and listening for any sounds. He began to search the house, starting at the top.

When he eventually found Bobby, the man was sat on the floor with his back resting against a wall and small silver knife in hand. In front of him stood the blood soaked body of his beloved wife, her hands stretching out toward him. Stunned, Rufus momentarily stared at the scene before him.

Shaking his shocked hesitation away , Rufus dowsed Karen in holy water. Karen immediately threw her head back and screamed. It felt to Bobby like her scream was going to go on and on forever; until Rufus threw the full contents of his bottle of holy water over the thing which had once been Karen.

The Karen monster reacted immediately, shaking it's head, screaming and screeching as it's skin bubbled and burnt, in some places down to the bone. A cloud of black smoke streamed from Karen's body and what was left of Bobby's wife finally fell to the floor.

Bobby's reaction was to freeze where he sat, trying to decide if it was safe to reach out and touch his Karen.

Once Rufus had made certain that Karen was dead, Bobby began to shake,

"There was nothing else I could do…..I didn't know what else to do Rufus. I didn't know…I…._oh God! KAAARENNNN!"_

XXX

At first the townspeople joined together, horrified, sympathetic and sensitive to Bobby's loss. Many of them attended Karen's cremation. They witnessed first hand the devastating impact her unexpected death was having on Bobby. Those that tried to offer condolences and words of comfort were met with brooding silence. Bobby's empty eyes seemed to stare right through them. He seemed unable to focus at all on the proceedings happening around him. Men held their hand out to him, only to hesitantly take it back again as Bobby stood completely unresponsive. Everyone wondered about the stranger who stood constantly at Bobby's side. Noting how the man supported and guided Bobby, maintaining a firm grip on Bobby's arm. It was the stranger who thanked the people for being there and accepted whispered words of sympathy.

From the day that Karen died anyone who needed a vehicle repair, whether urgent or not, found they had to travel to the next town. Singer Salvage was closed for business and there was no sign of it ever re-opening.

XXX

Two days after Karen's funeral, Bobby began to frequent the bar in town where he and Karen had occasionally met up with friends for a night out. The stranger who had stood by Bobby at the funeral had left the previous day. In the bar Bobby always sat alone, meeting all offers of company with silence and a brief shake of his head.

Over the next few weeks Bobby began to appear at the bar earlier and earlier in the day. Every night he was the last to leave.

Initially Bobby's behaviour was met with some tolerance and understanding. The bar manager would keep an eye on Bobby, on occasions surreptitiously adding water to Bobby's drinks in an attempt to reduce the amount of alcohol Bobby was consuming.

At the end of each night the manager would call a cab and help what was left of Bobby into it. Every night he would try to persuade Bobby to stay away from the bar for a few days, let the alcohol get out of his system, get himself cleaned up, have a proper meal, do anything other than consume alcohol to prove that he was still alive. But Bobby always retuned the next day, never changing his clothes, beard now completely overgrown, unkempt, long and straggly. Dark circles permanently hung around his eyes. It didn't seem to take long for Bobby's cheeks to appear sunken and gaunt. Within three short weeks his clothes began to hang noticeably looser off his frame due the weight loss caused by Bobby's reluctance to eat.

Although he considered himself to be a friend of Bobby's, eventually the bar manager simply had no other choice. He told Bobby he was no longer welcome, that he'd have to find somewhere else to continue to commit slow suicide, that his other customers were complaining about the smell.

All the while he was telling Bobby he was banned, the manager kept apologising. Bobby did feel a small blush of sympathy for the man and the difficult position he was in, but continued to say nothing.

XXX

Once barred from his familiar setting, Bobby soon found the least salubrious bar in the town, the one that "decent people" avoided.

Here the bar staff didn't give a shit how much alcohol the grieving drunk got through, so long as he paid. Neither did they give a shit when Bobby got beaten up in the toilets and was left laying in his own blood, his face a mass of cuts and bruises. Not one of the customers who visited the toilet and stepped over Bobby's prone figure took the time to check on him or to inform the bar staff that he was there.

It was closing time when the staff found him and they simply manhandled him out onto the street. They dumped him and left him collapsed in a heap on the sidewalk. It was three more days before any of the staff took it on themselves to mop Bobby's dried blood off the toilet floor. This wasn't the kind of joint that won any hygiene and cleanliness awards.

Bobby himself didn't seem to care. The day after the attack in the toilets he was back, sitting untidily on the floor by the bar entrance waiting for the door to be unlocked so he could start his day's routine again.

It wasn't the last time some young moron decided to get their kicks by beating on the "stinky guy". This latest version of in house entertainment only stopped when the manager threatened to ban the guilty parties on the grounds that his staff had got sick of having to clean the toilets. Bobby was relieved when his tormenters backed off and left him alone. Damn idjits had been disrupting his drinking time.

XXX

During this, the lowest period of Bobby's life, he and the local Sheriff became very familiar with each other. She repeatedly picked him up off the road, accommodating him in the town jail overnight. Bobby didn't mind so much. It got him a hot drink, a bed for the night and he didn't have too far to stagger back to the bar the next day. Whenever Bobby was the Sheriff's guest, she would try to get through to the booze addled wreck of a man.

She'd try to get him to accept help, to go for counselling, to admit he had an alcohol problem, to do anything other than just sit in isolation in that dump of a bar attracting the stares and whispers of low lives who once claimed to be friends and neighbours of his.

Despite the fact that the lady sheriff took persistence to a whole new level, Bobby soon learned to switch off to the sound of her voice and he continually ignored her pleas.

XXX

There was one occasion when another kind heart, a local doctor, spotted him slumped up against the locked door to the bar waiting for it to open. He knew Bobby and had known Karen. He wasn't too clear on the circumstances of Karen's death, no one was, but he was well aware of the on-going effect it was having on Bobby. Being a medic, he was also fully conversant with the longer term impacts that Bobby's current alcohol intake would have on the man. The doctor also knew that it would've broken Karen's heart to see her Bobby like this.

He took the time to go over to Bobby. He sincerely wanted to help. Bobby simply glanced at him with flat, bleary eyes before turning away again and growling at him to "Fuck off."

Along with everything else he lost, Bobby also lost all pride in himself. He never bothered to change his clothes, now tattered and stained with old blood, grease, grime and sweat. He stopped caring about his personal hygiene or grooming, telling himself that Karen wasn't around any more to make these things matter. He himself had a hand in making certain of that.

The stench of him was overpowering. Eventually the stink of alcohol, muck, sweat, blood, vomit and urine all came together to form the essence of what remained of the man once known as Robert "Bobby" Singer.

**xxxxxxxxXXXxxxxxxxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

Sometimes you didn't have to look to know that someone interesting had walked into the bar. You just heard the noise levels die as people stopped talking, cussing and yelling and, instead, fixed their attention on the new-comer.

It depended on whether the intruder was an official of any kind, a hot new bitch or simply Jack Nobody as to how quickly the usual level of noise resumed. Not that Bobby cared. He never bothered to look up to see who had just walked in. Whoever it was, they were never as interesting to Bobby as the contents of and the amount left in his glass.

These days he rarely even noticed when the quiet descended. He had become too turned in on himself, too isolated and too desolate to care.

XXX

On this particular evening Bobby, as usual, ignored the lull as it occurred. He was busily engaged in trying to figure whether he'd left it too late to reach the toilets before he pissed himself again. He decided he'd try his luck at getting to the toilet and see what happened. Bobby scraped his chair back and began to rise unsteadily to his feet.

He startled and wobbled dangerously when a strong hand reached out to steady him.

"Whoa there man! Looks like you've still got your sea legs on."

Puzzled, Bobby raised his head, blinking his eyes in an attempt to regain some semblance of focus as he tried to see who the hand belonged to.

"Hey bro. Manager at the bar you an' Karen used to hang out said I'd likely find you here. Jeeze man. Have you seen yourself lately? You look like shit! Come to that, you smell pretty much like shit too!"

Bobby's knees gave way and he slumped back down onto his chair, staring up into the worried face of the one man he'd hoped he would never see again,

"Rufus fuckin' Turner….Whathe fuck d'yu wan? Wha' ever 'tis….go fuck yersen. An' when yerv done? Go fuck yersen some more."

Bobby's head lolled forward, his chin hitting his chest.

Ignoring the instructions thrown at him, Rufus sat himself down opposite Bobby and stared with concern at the living corpse of the man he'd stopped by to see.

"Got a job near here, thought I'd call in. Y'know? See how my buddy Bobby Singer's doin'…Don't suppose you've seen him anywhere round here have you?"

"M'goin' fer a piss. Don' stay on my accoun'…fucking freak bastard."

XXX

Bobby stood. Swaying, he looked down at himself and the floor. He guessed he must've left it too late as he watched the new addition to the staining on his trousers dampen one trouser leg before pooling and spreading between his feet,

"Oops!"

Bobby looked vaguely around, his eyes crossing as he tried to get a fix on Rufus' position; then his eyes rolled upward and he began to topple backwards.

His foot skidding on the edge of the spreading puddle of urine, Rufus couldn't catch Bobby in time. Bobby crashed to the floor and lay still. A further pool of dark red liquid immediately began seeping out from under Bobby's head, heralding an injury caused when the back of his head met the wooden floor. Bobby lay motionless and unconscious.

"_Shit!"_

Two old guys who were sat together at the table nearest to Bobby began laughing. One pointed at Bobby's still form and looked over in the direction of the bar, shouting delightedly so everyone could hear,

"Look! Dick 'ed's jus' pissed 'imsel."

XXX

It took some rapid talking and no small amount of money from Rufus to stop the owner finishing off what was left of Bobby with a baseball bat.

Bobby himself remained blissfully unaware of his near death experience as well as Rufus' cursing as he manhandled Bobby into the back of his truck.

Unwilling to search Bobby's pockets for keys, Rufus simply shot the padlock off the gates to the salvage yard and picked the lock on Bobby's front door. Inside, the house was freezing and had a faint smell of food stuffs that hadn't been fresh for a good while. Bobby clearly hadn't been home for some time.

Turning on the lights resulted in suspicious scurrying noises coming from the kitchen. Ignoring the dust and debris, Rufus kicked a pile of empty spirit bottles to one side before dragging the unconscious Bobby from the truck through into the living room and laying him down on the sofa; covering him with the blue chenille throw that was draped over the back of the sofa. He then turned his attention to finding what he needed in order to clean out the fireplace and get a warming fire going.

Grunting he pushed the sofa accommodating Bobby's inert body closer to the warmth. That done, he then returned to the truck, collecting the Bergen that contained his clothing and other personal kit. Fishing behind the driver's seat, Rufus extracted his sizable first aid box and a couple more blankets. Rufus figured he was going to be staying a while at Bobby's place if he was to get the man back on his feet and functioning again.

A further trip to the truck saw Rufus selecting a number of weapons as well as holy water and salt from the hidden storage compartment in the back. Satisfied he had what he needed at least for the night, Rufus locked the truck up and went back indoors to begin the uphill task of caring for Bobby.

XXX

Despite the late hour Rufus pushed his own feelings of tiredness to one side and began checking out the rest of Bobby's house, making certain they were alone whilst at the same time familiarising himself with the layout. When he found Bobby's bedroom and the bathroom he collected towels and clean clothing for Bobby.

Rufus stopped a while, looking and remembering as he recognised the short hallway where he had found Bobby, sat cringing up against the wall whilst a blood soaked Karen moved in on him.

The dark staining caused by Karen's blood still highlighted where she fell. It was clear that no attempts had been made to clean the staining. Rufus sighed as he moved on, making a mental note to himself to have a go at cleaning the bloodstains as soon as he had the chance.

As Rufus had suspected, the kitchen was a mess. Rufus' heart sank at the thought of the tasks he had to look forward to. For now he ignored the state of things as best he could and concentrated on fixing himself a hot drink and thanking the heavens when he found the hot water still worked, filling a bowl with it.

XXX

Bobby didn't stir as Rufus stripped him of his clothes and washed him down as best he could before dressing Bobby in a pair of clean pyjamas. Neither did Bobby react whilst Rufus tended to the gash on the back of his head. Never flinching as Rufus skilfully stitched the wound.

Rufus pulled an overstuffed armchair over to the fire and settled himself down to sleep, knowing he would need all his energies to cope with what he was about to put Bobby through over the next few weeks.

XXX

Bobby's initial detox was harsh and he fought Rufus every step of the way. When the tremors stopped him from attempting to physically fight against Rufus' ministrations, Bobby would resort to verbal attacks.

The hallucinations Bobby experienced tore into his very soul as time and time again he was confronted by the image of Karen, chest covered in stab wounds and with impossible amounts of blood pouring from them, walking towards him.

Bobby repeatedly saw her reaching out to him, her eyes filled with pain as she silently mouthed _"why?" _Bobby would alternate between screaming for Rufus to make her go away or breaking down in tears and begging her forgiveness.

XXX

As soon as Bobby was able to walk albeit unsteadily, he frequently emptied cupboards and tore open drawers to scatter their contents in his desperate search for the alcohol his delusional state told him Rufus had got hidden somewhere. For his own safety and for Bobby's Rufus had to hide anything sharp in the house such as knives, scissors etc.

There were times that Bobby would try to bolt out of the house. His attempts to escape often ended up with he and Rufus grappling and wrestling with each other as Rufus tried to restrain him.

Bobby even tried going on hunger strike, refusing to eat unless Rufus gave him alcohol. Rufus simply ignored this tactic, making certain that there was food lying around for Bobby to "find" and pretending he didn't know that Bobby was eating when he thought Rufus wasn't looking.

Both of them suffered from disturbed nights, mostly because of Bobby's nightmares and hallucinations. But also due to Bobby's sleep being so restless, or because one minute he was feeling too hot, then the next he complained of being freezing cold.

Surrounding all this were the physical pains felt by Bobby in the early stages of his detox, along with the nausea and vomiting he initially suffered when Rufus slowly introduced solid food back into his diet.

The depression Bobby felt when his cravings weren't met often left him breaking down and sobbing hopelessly. At other times he would simply sit, almost catatonic, not communicating in any way and with his eyes fixed on nothing.

Through it all Rufus somehow stuck with him, despite his own lack of sleep, despite his constant watchfulness, despite not being able to take a break away from it all.

Rufus prepared the meals, spoon feeding Bobby when he was in his periods of catatonia. He cleaned up the vomit. He put things back into cupboards and drawers. He laundered bedding. He helped Bobby to wash. He guided him to the toilet. He took the words of hatred that Bobby frequently threw at him. He held Bobby close whilst Bobby's heart broke.

And, he was there when the man that was Bobby Singer at last began to slowly re-emerge.

XXX

At first, along with the man came the all consuming guilt. The terrible haunting knowledge that he played a part in killing his own wife.

Bobby tried to put the whole blame onto Rufus and to make Karen's death completely Rufus' responsibility. But Bobby couldn't keep that one going. Rufus had tried to warn him. Had given Bobby a possible way to protect himself and Karen. Rufus couldn't have known that the evil was already there. So, it was with the help of Rufus that Bobby was able at last, to begin to grieve properly.

When Bobby felt ready and able to ask, Rufus told him about Demons. Then Rufus continued. He spoke to Bobby about other supernatural beings, spirits, shape shifters, ghouls, Wendigo and more.

He told Bobby about the reality of all those things which Bobby had previously consigned to the world of myth and fantasy. More importantly, as far as Bobby was concerned, Rufus spoke about his own life and about his job. About being a Hunter.

Rufus answered Bobby's innumerable questions as honestly and as best he could. At night, laying in his bed, Bobby would re-play in his mind the things that Rufus had told him.

One day, partly to give himself a break from Bobby's continual probing, Rufus gave him an ancient book of the occult. Bobby read every word, soaking up the information and knowledge contained within it. Turns out, Bobby was a quick study.

XXX

Then came _that_ morning. Bobby, as was often the case now, was up before Rufus. By the time Rufus had showered and wandered into the kitchen, breakfast was ready.

Bobby passed a plate of food to Rufus before sitting himself down opposite his friend with his own meal. Rufus wasted no time and began to tuck in.

After a few forkfuls he realised that Bobby was not yet eating. Bobby simply sat, elbows on the table and his breakfast untouched as he watched Rufus carefully.

Rufus put his cutlery down,

"You not hungry?"

Bobby didn't respond, his gaze remained on Rufus, his expression serious.

"Bobby? What's wrong?"

"Nothin'…..just..…"

Taking a deep breath, Bobby began again, keeping his intense gaze on Rufus' face.

"I want you to do somethin' for me."

Rufus leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms,

"Ok…What is it?"

Bobby reached for his mug of coffee, raising it as though in salute to Rufus before taking a gulp and putting the mug back on the table.

"I want you to train me."

**FIN**

_A.N. Thank you for reading. Reviews or constructi__ve criticism are always helpful _

_when it comes to deciding whether or not to have a go at any more stories._


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